


A decisive change in situation

by melonbutterfly



Series: Not A Porn Star [4]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Banter, Fame, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Separations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-16
Updated: 2011-08-16
Packaged: 2017-10-22 17:07:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/240400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melonbutterfly/pseuds/melonbutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A semi-long-distance phone call late in the evening, during which important decisions are made - and promises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A decisive change in situation

"So, who are you today?", Rodney asks after John has yawned his greeting. It's two am in the morning, and he just came back from work. For John, it's two hours earlier, midnight, but he sounds pretty tired already; like Rodney, John doesn't function well on a get-up-early schedule. Actually, it's sort of weird – not how similar they are in this, but how illogical it is. They work better with five yours of sleep when they get up at twelve than they do with seven hours of sleep getting up at six. John is good enough at faking it (the practice, Rodney guesses), but in the evening it really starts to hit him. Rodney figures they won't stay on the telephone for long today.

"You know I can't tell you that, Rodney," John replies, sounding a little amused.

"I just find it disturbing that the script you're currently working with probably has a higher security level than my work," Rodney remarks archly.

"Oh, right, what was that again?"

Rodney snorts and rolls his eyes, slumping low on the sofa. "Ugh, shut up, what the hell do you want anyway."

"I miss you, baby," John croons. "It feels like somebody ripped my heart out, cut it up and made sushi with the pieces."

"That was me," Rodney replies. "It's the only way I feel you'll truly belong to me. Now that I had you, nobody can have you ever again."

"That's why all these strippers make me feel only more hollow."

"Yes, that's it exactly. Or maybe that's because they don't have dicks."

"I didn't say anything about them being female strippers, now did I?" John's raised eyebrow is audible, he doesn't care what John says about that being impossible.

Rodney snorts. "Don't give me any complexes about my sense of rhythm."

"Why, Rodney," John purrs, voice sliding lower. "I have no complains whatsoever about your sense of rhythm. Keep up the good work."

"I'd love to, but it's somewhat difficult, what with my boyfriend being halfway across the globe."

"Who is that boyfriend you are speaking of?", John inquires politely. "Because I'm not even quarter-way across the globe, so I'm a little curious."

"Whatever." Rodney waves his hand dismissively. "So what are you up to?"

"Not much," John replies, sounding tired again. "I'm beat. Did some stunts today."

"Did you hit your head?", Rodney asks suspiciously. Ever since John got himself a concussion during a supposedly fake car accident, he doesn't trust the stunts anymore. John insists for some weird reason to do them himself; he claims it's about authenticity, but Rodney has the suspicion it's about adrenaline. John sometimes displays frighteningly self-destructive tendencies.

"No, Rodney, I did not hit my head." This time, it's John's eye roll that is audible. "I'm just tired." He's silent for a moment, for so long that Rodney is about to say something when John continues, voice quiet. "I miss you."

"I miss you too," Rodney replies softly. "We should move in together." Woops. He hadn't meant to say that; it's possible he himself is a little tired as well. It has nothing to do with him getting up early for John every day.

John stays silent for a moment. "I'd like that, Rodney," he says then, but something in his voice makes Rodney hesitate. "I'm not sure if it isn't a little early, though," John says, and Rodney lets out a relieved breath. He hadn't been sure either – or rather, he had figured that it would be moving things along a little too fast, which is why he had never mentioned it before, or even seriously thought about it. They split their time between each other's apartments, spending roughly an equal amount of time in either, and also some time alone. Rodney hadn't lived with anyone since his income had made having a roommate unnecessary, and while he's secure in their relationship (or as secure as anyone can be, eight months in), he still thinks they aren't quite there yet.

"Yes, yes, I agree," he thus hastens to assure John. "I mean, I want to, at one point." Having John available at all times would be neat. "But..."

"Yeah, that's what I mean," John agrees. "I think we should... we should spend some more time building our relationship." Absently, Rodney wonders whether John read that in Cosmo; it certainly sounds like it. "Also... well. We haven't come out yet."

"What do you mean, come out?", Rodney asks, confused. He had thought they were out. He's not sure, but he thinks he remembers there having been some bad quality paparazzi pictures of them grocery shopping that John's agent had hit John over the head with and that John had brought home afterwards. "Aren't we out?"

John makes an amused noise. "We're not out until we're either caught kissing in public, or do something demonstrative like... like you accompanying me to the Academy Awards Ceremony." Normally, Rodney would dismiss something like that as a simple example to help him understand (and he admittedly needs them, where this sort of thing is concerned, because mostly he just doesn't get it), but there's a nervous undertone in John's voice, like maybe it's more than just that.

"Was that- did you just invite me to come with you?" Rodney thinks he can be forgiven for being a little confused. John has never, ever asked him to come with him to anything concerning his work. Rodney hasn't even met John's mysterious agent (or knows of what gender zie is, much less hir name).

"Uhm. Yes?"

His boyfriend doesn't sound all that sure himself, but Rodney decides to ignore that part. "Uhm. Yes?", he says, realizing belatedly that he's echoing John and that their conversation has definitely taken a turn for ridiculous. "I mean, sure, I'd like that." Weirdly, it feels like that time John asked him for a date, even though he hadn't even done that in person.

John exhales. "Cool. I mean, good. ...is it just me, or is this conversation pathetic?"

"It is pathetic," Rodney agrees. "I'll follow you everywhere, honey," he simpers.

"That's what restraining orders are for," John quips back.

"I can restrain you all on my own, I don't need an order for that."

"Promises, promises," John sing-songs, only to be interrupted by a yawn.

"Sounds like it's bedtime for little actors halfway across the globe," Rodney says, suppressing an answering yawn himself.

"Not even a quarter," John argues. "Also..." He takes a deep breath. "So we're going to do this."

Rodney doesn't need to ask what "this" is. "Yes. If you really want to. I don't have to wear a tux, do I?" He has a vague memory of people on the red carpet wearing tuxedos, and there would be a red carpet at the Academy Awards Ceremony, wouldn't there? It seems logical, since some starlets are apparently unable to walk where there isn't one (Rodney knows that from May, who likes to talk about "those scrawny young things that nowadays pass for celebrities" a lot).

"You can wear whatever you want, but if it's something embarrassing, you're going to have to deal with the bad press and my agent yourself."

"That was really unhelpful, thank you."

"All in a day's work. And... if it goes well, we'll move in together." It doesn't sound like a question, but Rodney knows John well enough to recognize it as one.

"What do you mean, if it goes well? So if I do wear something embarrassing you'll kick me to the curb?"

"Yes, Rodney, because I'm only with you for the good publicity." John rolls his eyes, Rodney can hear it. "No, I mean... if we can deal with the press and the paparazzi and everything."

Rodney doesn't need to ask what John means by that; he himself is pretty sure he won't give a damn. He doesn't right now, and he can't imagine that changing in the future. John is a different matter, though – John doesn't deal well with the public eye focused on him. Rodney knows this more because May told him than from John himself – it hadn't really come up so far, at least not with John, who to date is pretty reluctant to talk about anything related to the part of his occupation that he actually gets paid for, which as of yet isn't designing airplanes. May is a lot more forthcoming, and Rodney resolves to call her first thing tomorrow and ask her what he should wear. Then he realizes what exactly he just thought – he's going to call John's aunt to ask about _what he should wear to prom_. This is the end, surely.

"Well, then, I don't think that will be a problem," Rodney says, trying hard not to make it sound flippant. Where this is concerned, John is very, very sure he knows better, and while it's true that he has more experience, that doesn't mean he knows Rodney better than Rodney knows himself. As if Rodney cares about what sort of pictures or rumors come up about him.

"Yeah, I know." John is quiet for a moment. "Are you going to go to bed?"

Rodney glances at the clock. "Not yet, no. You?"

Instead of a reply, John yawns again, making Rodney huff a laugh. "Okay, yes, I see. Good night, then."

"Good night, Rodney," John replies, voice soft. "I'll see you in three weeks." He doesn't make promises of coming home earlier, even though the last time he had been filming he had come back three days earlier than planned. Rodney hopes it'll happen again.

"And you'll call me tomorrow," he orders. He knows better than to think it's that easy; they'll have to have a serious talk about what it actually means for Rodney to accompany his boyfriend to the Academy Awards, what it will mean for their relationship and how it will affect their lives. He's not even sure he'll really go; yes, he wants to, but maybe they – _John_ – aren't ready yet.

"As soon as I can," John promises. They both know he'll get bored at one point on set and send Rodney whining emails, especially in the morning, when he's in make-up. Rodney might or might not have set an alarm to his email program so it alerts him when he gets emails from John and wake him up, so he can write back immediately.

"Sleep well," Rodney says.

"You too," John replies around another upcoming yawn, and then the line's dead.


End file.
